


One Last Time

by 373829g



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Based off One Last Time, Betaed, Canon-Era, Crying, Drinking, Drunken Confessions, Drunken Shenanigans, First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild emotional hurt/comfort, Songfic, Whamilton - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 19:54:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26454463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/373829g/pseuds/373829g
Summary: Songic for 'One Last Time'Washington informs Hamilton of his resignation from the presidential office and they have a drink one last time before they may never have an excuse to cross paths again. Hamilton tries to convince the man to rethink this but he is set in his decision. He succumbs to defeat and drinks with him. They're quick to consume the beverage at first, eager to let it take the pain of their inevitable last goodbye away. But when they reach the bottom of the bottle, neither seems to want to finish the remaining alcohol; because if they do that then they no longer have an excuse to keep talking.I honestly don't if that was good as far as summaries go but whatever the stories good. Enjoy!
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/George Washington
Kudos: 23





	One Last Time

Washington was asking for Hamilton. He courtly nodded to the intern who relayed this information to him and made his way towards the ex general's office. The door was already open, presumably for him. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him and situated himself in front of the taller man. 

“Mr. President, you asked to see me?” he voiced.

“I know you’re busy,” Washington began. He wasn’t looking at Hamilton as he usually did, instead fixated on something else. Hamilton wasn’t sure what that something was but it wasn’t his eyes. He felt a pang of disappointment at that. 

“What do you need sir?” he asked, receiving no reply. He waited for another moment of silence. “Sir?” he repeated, tilting his head down a bit to catch the other man’s eye. It worked. Washington turned to look at him. 

“I want to give you a word of warning,” he said without further continuation.

“Sir, I don’t know what you heard, but whatever it is, Jefferson started it,” Hamilton defended, assuming immediately that the arrogant Virginian had once again stirred some trouble for him. A smack in the press, no doubt. 

Washington frowned, but thankfully held his gaze with Hamilton, his large pupils seeming to bore into Hamilton’s soul. “Thomas Jefferson resigned this morning,” he delivered.

Hamilton was taken aback at this. His mind raced with ideas of what had driven Jefferson away. Himself, no doubt. He cracked a self satisfied half smile. “You’re kidding,” he said, incredulous.

“I need a favor,” Washington said, handing him a paper off his desk. Hamilton took it, not reading it yet.

“Whatever you say sir. Jefferson will pay for this behavior,” he remarked all too gleefully. Washington calmly shushed him.

“Talk less.” 

Hamilton continued anyways. “I’ll use the press. I’ll write under a pseudonym, you’ll see what I can do to him!”

“I need you to draft an address.”

“Yes!” Hamilton exclaimed. “He resigned, you can finally speak your mind!” He looked down at the yellow paper Washington had handed him, unfolding it and scanning over Jefferson’s official resignation letter.

“No,” Hamilton faltered a bit. Why? “He’s stepping down so he can run for president,” Washington explained. Hamilton laughed.

“Ha! Good luck defeating you sir!” he quipped. Washington looked out his window.

“I’m stepping down, I’m not running for president,” he disclosed, turning back to Hamilton with a somewhat sad expression. Hamilton was silent for a moment, not believing what he just heard. 

“I’m sorry what?” he faltered feebly, looking up to the older man. 

“One last time,” Washington said. He gestured to the two armchairs on the other side of the room, a small coffee table in between them. “Relax, have a drink with me one last time.” He grabbed a bottle of expensive whiskey from a small cupboard next to his desk. “Let’s take a break tonight, and then we’ll teach them how to say goodbye, you and I.”

“No, sir, why-” Hamilton started to object. 

Washington cut him off. “I want to talk about neutrality,” he began. That at least gave Hamilton an argument to make. 

“Sir. With Britain and France on the verge of war, is this the best time?” If Jefferson was elected he would declare to help France on their way to victory.

“I want to warn against partisan fighting.”

“What-”

“Pick up a pen, start writing,” Washington exhorted a bit sternly. Hamilton begrudgingly obliged, grabbing a pen and paper from Washington’s desk. He awaited further instruction of what to say, as the two of them had done hundreds of times before. 

“I want to talk about what I have learned; the hard won wisdom I have earned,” 

Hamilton put the pen down. “As far as the people are concerned, you have to serve. You could continue to serve,” he pleaded. Washington ignored him.

“One last time,” he repeated. “The people will hear from me one last time,” Hamilton huffed. “And if we get this right, we’re gonna teach them how to say goodbye, you and I.”

“Mr. President, they will say you’re weak,” Hamilton tried to argue. This of course wasn’t the truth but he couldn’t exactly say the real reason he was so against this development.

“No, they will see we’re strong,” Washington pointed. 

“Your position is so unique.” 

“So I’ll use it to move them along.” 

“Why do you have to say goodbye?” Hamilton pushed.

“If I say goodbye, the nation learns to move on. It outlives me when I’m gone,” Hamilton sighed and looked down. “Like the scripture says: ‘Everyone shall sit under their own vine, and fig tree, and no one shall make them afraid,’ they’ll be safe in the nation we’ve made,” Washington continued. “I want to sit under my own vine, and fig tree, a moment alone in the shade. At home, in this nation we’ve made, one last time.”

“One last time,” Hamilton mirrored in defeat. 

Hamilton picked the pen back up and quickly wrote a letter for Washington. It took him no longer than ten minutes. Washington waited patiently in one of the armchairs. When Hamilton finished, he took it to Washington to read over, bringing the pen with him for any corrections he may want him to make. He tried not to suck in a breath as their hands brushed ever so slightly against each other when Washington took the paper from his hands. They didn’t make much physical contact but when the occasion occurs it’s exhilarating. 

Washington read it over quickly. He nodded, handing it back to him. “Perfect,” he said. Hamilton questioned this but didn’t say anything, turning back around to return it to his desk. Washington always had corrections to his work. It was oftentimes small things that were simply the result of sleep deprivation, but there was always something. He doubted this was perfect. He had rushed through it, giving it only half a thought. Surely there was something wrong with it. Even if just an extra comma in the middle of a phrase that changed the meaning. However he said nothing, placing it on his desk and going back to sit in the other arm chair across from the president.

Washington poured them both a glass of whiskey. He set the bottle down in the middle of the small table and slid one drink over to Hamilton on a corkboard coaster, grabbing the other for himself and taking a sip.

Hamilton took the glass, sipping it slowly. The two men were silent for a moment, as they consumed the whiskey. Hamilton stared out the window. It offered a nice view of the city, of the sun setting behind the various buildings.

“How have you been lately?” Washington spoke, breaking the silence. Hamilton looked to him, a slightly confused expression adorning his face. Washington was never really one for small talk. 

“I’ve been decent,” he replied nonetheless. “What about you?” 

“I have been ok,” he responded, taking a swig of his whiskey, finishing his first glass. He refilled it, looking to Hamilton expectantly. He got the hint and downed the last of his drink, setting it down for Washington to give him another round. 

They continued to speak, quickly making their way up to bubbly rapping. They prattled about this and that, and they quickly got drunk off the strong whiskey Washington had provided. Eventually they emptied the last contents of the bottle into one last round. They both held their glasses but neither made a move to drain them like the previous ones.

“You aren’t drinking,” Washington pointed out. Hamilton let out a breathy laugh.

“Neither are you,” he countered. Washington gave a hearty chuckle.

“No, I suppose I’m not,” he agreed. “But I have my reasons.”

“As do I.” 

They just stared for some moments. At each other. At everything else. At nothing in particular. 

“I don’t want the night to end,” Washington revealed quietly. Hamilton smiled somewhat sadly at the older man.

“Me neither,” he replied. Washington looked up at him with an unreadable expression. “Please don’t step down,” he said, looking at him with pleading eyes. Washington opened his mouth to respond but Hamilton continued. “Please don’t leave me,” He wasn’t thinking straight, and he knew he needed to stop, that he was only causing problems, but he didn’t know if he could do that whilst under influence.

“Hamilton,” Washington started. He didn’t continue though.

“I need you,” Hamilton confessed. He could’ve worded that better, but he tried not to focus on that. The damage was already done. So what harm could come from making it worse? That was logical thinking right? No? Give him a break, he's drunk.

“I don’t know what I’ll do without you in my life,” he choked. 

“You can climb just fine without my help,” Washington refuted. Hamilton huffed a small laugh.

“This isn’t about my public image, sir,” he started. “This is about you, and what you mean to me,” 

Washington sucked in a breath. “What are you implying?” he asked. Hamilton broke.

“I love you, sir,” he started. “I love you more than words can express, and I need you. I need you in my life. I need your words, your touch, your anything, please don’t leave me alone,” he cried. There it was. Now he’d done it. He downed half his drink in one swig and curled in on himself. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” he whimpered. “I didn’t mean to overstep,” Washington didn’t say anything. “I’ll see myself out,” he said, standing up shakily. He finished his drink, setting it down and going to turn for the door. He wiped his eyes. 

“Wait,” Washington said, quickly standing and grabbing Hamilton’s wrist, spinning him back around to come face to face with him. 

They stared at each other for what seemed like forever. Hamilton sniffled, confused. “Sir?” he squeaked weakly. Washington reached his free hand up to cup Hamilton’s cheek, tentatively wiping his tears. Hamilton’s breath hitched. He placed a cautious hand atop Washington’s.

Washington smiled at him. “I love you too, Alexander,” he said quietly. Hamilton’s eyes widened, staring dumbly at the taller man. Because surely he heard him wrong. Right? No.

Washington leaned forward, gently pulling him closer. Their lips met with an intoxicating explosion of adrenaline. Hamilton’s eyes fluttered closed, soaking in the feeling, unsure if he would ever get to experience it again, or if he would wake up and find this all to be a dream. 

Washington let go of Hamilton’s wrist to rest it on his hip. With his other hand now free, Hamilton could wrap his arms around Washington’s neck, pulling him closer still. They continued to embrace each other, grasping at whatever they could to pull the other closer. Eventually they had to pull away, gasping for air. Hamilton looked up at Washington and cracked a smile. The older man returned it, resting his forehead on Hamilton’s own. 

He backed up, pulling Hamilton into his lap as they sat in an armchair. Hamilton giggled, and snuggled into him, inhaling his scent. Washington held him close, planting one last kiss on his forehead before they both slipped away to the mansions of slumber. 

“Thank you,” Hamilton said quietly just before he fell asleep. Washington hummed in response.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to otakuAegyo for Betaing this for me : P


End file.
